Harry Gaunt
by snufkin
Summary: Young Harry is whisked away from a World Cup tournament by Voldemort. The Dark Lord is vanquished and Harry is hailed as a dead saviour. James and Lily recover. Fifteen years later, one Harry Gaunt makes his way to Hogwarts.
1. The World Cup

Harry Gaunt

Chapter One – The World Cup

"Lily, my flower, have I told you that you are the nicest bestest wife ever," said James while trying to school his features into that of an innocent young boy. His unruly black hair and skewed glasses, however, destroyed the whole image.

"I'm also your only wife and you better not forget it," scowled Lily playfully glancing at her beloved husband of two years. Lily was scourgifying the morning's dirty dishes. "What do you want, now, James? You have that look."

"My gosh! Can't I even compliment my wife without being rebuked?" whined James. "You needn't get so suspicious Lily dear."

Lily laughed and sent the dishes flying back into the cupboards above the sink. She turned around to James and crossed her arms. She looked straight at him. "Ok, James, spill. Now."

James grinned sheepishly. "Sirius and I want to take Harry with us to the Quidditch World Cup. My son needs to be introduced to the delight of quidditch. What say you, oh, Honorable Wife?"

"Absolutely not," Lily instantly replied. "There is no way I'm letting you take my baby to be crushed and deafened and—"

"Oh come on, Lily, do you really think I'd let harm come into Harry's way?" James pleaded. "You know Sirius and me got prime tickets in a Top Box. No chances of getting crushed by the masses there! I'll be watching Harry every second, I promise, honey."

"How can you watch him every second if you're watching the chasers and the beaters," retorted Lily. "And even Death Eaters could get tickets to Top Boxes!"

"Lily, I know you're worried about the World Cup getting attacked, but really, we'll be fine!" said James. "The ministry has overdone itself in terms of security. There'll be aurors posted at every entrance as well as inside the stadium. Hell, there's even a bunch of Unspeakables going undercover as fans. Voldemort won't dare show up!"

Lily just scowled at him, her lips in a thin line.

James took the few steps that separated him and his wife. He put his arms around her and kissed her on the nose. "Don't be so tense, Lily. I'll keep Harry on my lap the whole time and if there are any signs of trouble, I'll apparate away immediately. Sirius will be there to protect us too, you know.

Lily softened at Sirius' mention. "He's more likely to get you two in bigger trouble," she mumbled.

James grinned at her, knowing he had won. "I'll go get Harry. We'll probably be back around tomorrow evening. Sirius got his hands on this super-deluxe wizard tent."

James ran up two stairs at a time and came back down with one-year old Harry in his arms. Harry was clutching his green blankie.

"I've got his knapsack with the diapers, his puree and his milk," said James. "We'll be going then. I'll miss you, wife-o-mine."

Lily smiled lovingly at them. She kissed Harry on his forehead. "See you tomorrow, my little bundle of sunshine."

Lily turned to face James. "Now go, you big ball of trouble, before I change my mind and hide Harry back in his nursery," she threatened.

James grinned once again and, after one last parting-kiss, left the house. Sirius was waiting outside in his animagus form, bumbling around joyfully.

Lily walked to the window and put delicate fingers on the glass. She reluctantly watched as James headed towards the nearest Portkey with Harry sitting on his shoulders and Sirius running after them. Little Harry was squealing in delight. Lily wished fervently that the quidditch match would be a short one and that they would soon be back safely at her side.

oooooooooooooooooooo

"So she let you bring Harry after all," said Sirius while squinting at the rising sun. "How _did_ you convince her, Prongs?"

"It's the old Potter charm, my dear Padfoot," laughed James. He tickled his giggling son under the chin. "Harry, here, will be a Hogwarts' favorite in a few years to come."

Sirius groaned amicably. "What Potter charm? You do realize it took you almost three years to get Lily to go out with you? And then another two years of relentless pursuing to get her to marry you?"

"Well it worked in the end," scoffed James, good-naturedly. "No need to be jealous, Padfoot, old friend."

"What have I done to deserve a blow like that," said Sirius. He turned to Harry who was perched on top of James' shoulders. "When you're older, pup, Uncle Padfoot and you are going to set Hogwarts amok," said Sirius to the gurgling boy.

"And most likely, Lily will have _my_ hide," groaned James, carefully stepping over a large root that was sticking out of the ground. "We'll just have to make sure she doesn't know, eh son?"

Harry only giggled more.

"Oh there's the Portkey," Sirius pointed at an old boot. No one else had shown up.

As they approached the Portkey, James glanced at Sirius. "Seriously, Padfoot, have you taken any thoughts to settling down yet? I want to see you happy, you know, not changing girls every two, three weeks. Harry, here, needs playmates, you know."

Sirius looked at the forest on their left before he shook his head. "I can't, Prongs. You know why. I want the Black line to finish with me."

James looked tortured for a second and then he said: "Sirius, what your family is and has done has nothing to do with you. You're your own person. Hell, change your name to Potter. It's not as if I haven't considered you as a brother and my parents, bless them, as a son. You can't go on making decisions that'll only end up hurting you because you want to revenge yourself on your family. You deserve to be happy, Sirius."

Sirius didn't answer. He looked somber and unlike his playful self. The trio had arrived in front of the Portkey. The activation time was scheduled for in five minutes.

At that moment, Harry decided to utter his first words. "P-Paddy."

The two adults stared at him. Harry grinned. "P-Paddy!"

"My son just called me Daddy! I could cry of joy!" said James, his eyes shining with pride.

"You sure, Prongs? I was under the impression Harry just said Paddy, as in the shortened version of Padfoot," Sirius smirked at his best friend, before looking at Harry. "Your Godfather has received your message, pup."

Harry laughed in his baby gurgle and pulled on James' ears. "Paddy!"

James winced and then turned his nose up at Sirius. "Ummph, Harry meant Daddy of course, he's just confused with his words."

Sirius pinched James on the cheek and laughed. "C'mon, the Portkey's going to activate."

And just before the Portkey activated, Sirius looked up at James and said: "And you're right, Prongs, I deserve happiness. Thanks."

oooooooooooooooooooo

The Minister of Magic wiped his brow with his soaked handkerchief. The back of his suit had that patch of wet stain that left no doubt about the Minister's nervousness. He had just been informed of an attack in a small muggle village in Glascow.

These days, Death Eater attacks occurred often and in unpredictable locations. An attack on a muggle settlement was regular news in these troubled times. Today, however, the Minister was more jumpy than usual because the Quidditch World Cup was being held under his jurisdiction.

And so, when an auror had popped his head into his fire, the Minister had jumped in frightened anticipation.

"It's the World Cup, isn't it? Oh Merlin, tell me, auror?" the Minister had said. But it was only a minor scuffle in Glascow. The Minister was thankful—for the moment anyway. The day was far from being over.

The Minister settled back to his desk to tidy up his affairs. He was scheduled to show up an hour before the Cup began. He had to put in some good words for the British Wizarding World. He had, after all, allowed the World Cup to proceed despite the dangers that You-Know-Who presented.

At the time, The Minister of Magic had wanted to uplift the wizarding world's mood by going through with their national sport. But now, with all the extra work the Cup had brought, he wasn't so sure anymore. Nevertheless, after today, the whole thing would be over and the wizarding world could go back to being gloomy and wary.

The Minister wiped his brow again and prepared to floo over to the stadium.

And then, it happened. Lucius Malfoy slipped into his office and pointed his wand at the Minister of Magic. "IMPERIO."

oooooooooooooooooooo

After James and Harry had left with Sirius, Lily put on some gloves and went outside in the front yard to tend to her garden. She watered the flowers, picked out the dead leaves and shaped some bushes. Thus, she was outside when Albus fire-called her. He was also unable to floo to Godric's Hollow due to several protection wards in place.

Albus had an urgent message for the Potters concerning a certain prophecy he'd heard from Sibyl Trelawney the night before. This was something he'd have to relay to the Potters personally. The Longbottoms had already been informed and put under the Fidelius Charm. The same would have to be done for the Potters.

Dumbledore apparated to the limit of the Potter domain before hopping onto a broom. Time was short, the spy would have reported to Voldemort already.

It was already past noon when Dumbledore found Lily, her head stuck amongst rose bushes, painstakingly trying to get to a tulip bulb behind them. Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at the sight of the young redhead. Lily's understanding of plants had certainly helped her in potions, in which she excelled, Dumbledore remembered fondly.

Dumbledore walked up to her and coughed. "Good morning, Lily."

Lily jumped and instantly flipped around, her wand pointed at him.

"Oh Albus! You startled me," she said and lowered her wand. "I'm sorry, I've been outside all morning trying to subdue these unreasoning plants. Are you looking for James?"

"Actually, I came to speak to both of you. It is a matter of utmost urgency, I'm afraid. It concerns the future of your son."

"Oh God!" cried Lily, standing up abruptly. "Did something happen to Harry or James?"

"No, no. I don't believe we have to worry yet, but it would be wise to make preparations. I have been told a prophecy, you see. It is very likely that the outcome of this prophecy will involve your son and Voldemort."

Lily paled. She took off her gloves and threw them on the ground beside her gardening tools. "You had better come in for a cup of tea then, Albus," Lily said. "I'll try to contact James."

Dumbledore nodded graciously and followed her into the house.

oooooooooooooooooooo

James, Sirius and Harry were having a bomb at the Quidditch World Cup. It was Germany versus Portugal and the fans were screaming themselves hoarse.

James was pressing his omniculars so close that his glasses pressed painfully into his face Harry was bouncing on James lap, not oblivious to the excitement around him. Sirius was stuffing his face and every time Portugal scored, he'd lose half his caramel popcorn in a fit of roaring triumph.

The Quidditch World Cup was indeed an intoxicating experience, thought James. The atmosphere was great. Weather was good. The game was exciting. They were sitting in a Top Box with high officials and even the Minister of Magic himself! Harry was enjoying his first quidditch match. Voldemort was quiet. Sirius' wounds towards his family had begun to heal.

James gave Harry a big wuzzy kiss on the cheek. Yes, life was simply good today.

oooooooooooooooooooo

"STUPEFY!" shouted Lily, her wand pointed at a Death Eater standing near the fireplace. He dropped down and was quickly replaced by another who had just walked in the front door.

There were too many of them. They had appeared just when Dumbledore and her had settled down to discuss the prophecy. And now, the Death Eaters just kept coming. Lily frantically waved her wand at the approaching Death Eater. "HURTILEX!"

The Death Eater stumbled and fell to his knees. He was hurling out the inside of his body: food, stomach, intestines and liver. The curse Lily had used was particularly dark but she was cornered and cornered people will sometimes do things that they'd be horrified to do in normal circumstances.

Dumbledore was fighting against six Death Eaters. He was cool as a cucumber and flinging transfigured objects at the Death Eaters as well as in front of himself. He animated the Potter's Gryffindor lion statue and sent it charging at a Death Eater that had just began to mutter the killing curse.

In the middle of the fight, a Death Eater previously dueling with Dumbledore twisted his torso around and sent a spell rushing at Lily. The spell hit her and she was sent crashing, head first, out of the window. She lay dazed, surrounded by a pool of glass and blood, her wand nowhere near her. A Death Eater was striding towards her fallen figure with the intent of killing.

But a Potter was not so easily defeated, especially not a female one. With pain lashing through her ribs and her head, Lily fumbled beside her until her hands set onto the gardening tools she'd left lying around earlier. She didn't think. She just threw the tool right at the Death Eater.

The small rake with four points, useful for gardening, had turned deadly when it embedded itself into the surprised Death Eater's throat. The blood stained his black robes.

Lily, fighting loss of consciousness, dizzily crawled to where her wand lay. She clutched it with her left hand, her right wrist being in tatters. She pointed to a Death Eater who had backed up onto the front porch. "SECTUMSEMPRA!" she cried. She'd learned that one from Snape, back in school. The Death Eater gushed blood.

Lily lay on the ground panting, her head swimming. She heard Death Eaters yelling. They were fleeing into the forest and apparating away. Lily saw Dumbledore running towards her. Her last thought was on her husband and her baby. Her world blackened.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Lily woke up in St-Mungo's. Her head ached a thousand deaths and her body felt as if it had been torn apart and stitched back together.

"J-James, Harry," she mumbled. "J-James?" She blinked. Her husband was standing over her, anxiously looking at her. James wanted to hug her, to smother her in kisses, but he didn't want to hurt her in the process. He settled for kissing her hand repeatedly.

"Oh God, Lily!" said James shakily. "We weren't sure if you'd ever wake up! I was so worried." He looked worn, like he had aged twenty years in the space of a day.

"You've been asleep for three weeks, Lily," James explained. "If it hadn't been for Dumbledore intervening so fast…" He shuddered at the thought.

"J-James, what about Harry? Is Harry alright?"

James looked suddenly tired, and grim. His dry eyes seemed to beg to let the flow ravage his face. But James didn't cry, instead he said: "Lily, he—he was taken."

Lily stared at him.

"Three weeks ago, at the World Cup," James said grimly. "Harry was taken by the Minister of Magic to be handed over to Voldemort."

Lily didn't cry. She didn't yell. She didn't slap James. She didn't try to get up to go find her first-born. Instead, she fainted.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Severus Snape stared in disgust at the one-year-old baby. He would have gladly let the child fall to his death after the Minister had thrown him over the banister. But the Dark Lord would've had Severus' hide, crucioing him into his next life. Severus had accio'd the child and disapparated. The blame had fallen on the Minister of Magic—the whole wizarding world had been shaken.

Severus rued the day he'd heard the first half of the prophecy and faithfully reported it to the Dark Lord. He spared another sneering look at the child. The child was truly a Potter, right down to the unruly hair. But he had Lily's eyes, and Severus softened at the memory of Lily. She'd been an ok mudblood. They had been friends—Snape and Evans, the unlikely potions duo—until she started going out with Potter and hanging out with his Gryffindor posse. Severus had never gotten over her betrayal despite the fact she'd wanted to stay friends.

And now he had the Potters' precious child—the child of the prophecy, who had, just hours before, defeated the Dark Lord.

Severus and Lucius had brought the child to the Manor. The Dark Lord wanted the child—wanted him dead. The Dark Lord had pointed his wand at the child's head and had said with triumph in his rasp voice: "Avada Kedavra." And then the Dark Lord was dead, the curse having rebounded onto him.

The child had cried but hadn't seemed worse off, except for the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He had immediately gone back to sleep.

The days after a baby vanquished the Dark Lord were chaotic. Death Eaters had, at first, turned themselves in. But Bartemius Crouch, who had taken over the post of Minister of Magic, possessed an iron fist and all were sentenced to Azkaban despite pleas of being imperiused. Many Death Eaters simply disappeared off the face of the Earth.

Some, like Malfoy, Nott and Parkinson tried to buy their way out. They didn't count on Crouch's pure hatred of the Dark Arts and his relentless pursuit to get any Death Eaters jailed. They fled, leaving family and wealth behind.

That left Severus, Bellatrix and the baby. They were standing in a forest clearing. The child was crawling around and trying to catch butterflies.

"We must kill the child and find the Dark Lord," Bellatrix spat at Severus, her dark eyebrows furrowed. She waved her arms wildly. "The Dark Lord has taken measures to ensure his immortality. He is still alive."

"How do you suppose to kill the child when the Dark Lord was unable to?" sneered Snape, jerking his head in the child's direction. "We had better keep him alive and bring him to wherever the Dark Lord is hiding. What if the Dark Lord needs the brat for his resurrection?"

Bellatrix stayed silent but she glared at Snape. She stomped to the spot of grass where Harry was rolling around and grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck. She threw him on her shoulders. "And don't you dare pull my hair, you horrible brat!" she warned him. Harry simply giggled.

Severus transfigured a bone into a mangled body of a child and left it in the Manor. He let drops of blood purloined from the child drip onto the doppleganger. If the Order showed up and found the corpse, they'd stop looking for the boy. He quickly walked out and went back to Bellatrix who was waiting with brooms in the forest clearing, the boy asleep and slumped on her shoulders.

"Let's go find our Master," she said at the sight of him. Severus nodded tersely and they flew into the night.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Fifteen years later – Godric's Hollow 

Lily was fingering the well-worn green blankie of her first-born, on her knees, in the attic. He would have been sixteen today. She didn't cry. She'd exhausted her tears fifteen years ago when she'd first been faced with Harry's kidnapping and then later, with the small decaying corpse found at Voldemort's headquarters.

Harry had indeed defeated Voldemort, but at the cost of his own young life. It was believed that angry Death Eaters had killed him. Harry, her son, became famous as the cause of Voldemort's defeat. The papers called him the boy-who-died-to-save-us-all.

But for the Potter's, he'd always be Harry, the one we lost. Lily tightened her hold on the blankie. She pressed it to her cold dry lips.

Lily was putting the blankie away in the chest that contained Harry's stuff when James entered the room. He hugged her from behind and shared her grief. James had never truly forgiven himself for having let the Minister grab Harry. Lily had never truly forgiven him either. But the days of Voldemort had been harsh and cruel.

In the end, they had blamed the Minister, who had organized the Quidditch World Cup, who had pushed to have it in Britain, who had grabbed Harry and thrown him away to Voldemort.

They blamed Voldemort, but he was dead and had gotten what he deserved. Life had to go on.

Lily turned her head around and smiled at James. "We should go down to Jeremy or he'll be whining that we don't spend enough time together again."

James kissed her neck and held her hand as they made their way down from the attic and the painful memories it held.

Jeremy, their second son, was in the kitchen, attempting to make pancakes. He grinned sheepishly as they entered the room. "Dudley taught me," he explained. "He said I could make them low-fat and all."

Ever since Harry was killed, Lily had felt protective of what family she had left and had thus renewed contact with her sister Petunia. They limited talk of magic to a minimum and had their sons spend time together. Jeremy helped his older cousin keep in shape and Dudley taught Jeremy the art of muggle cooking. They got along fairly well.

"Dudley told me he'd lost five pounds eating these,"Jeremy said to his mother. "Even Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have taken a liking to them."

Lily, openly laughing now, pushed back her sleeves and went to help her son. James, smiled evenly, and added some blueberries to the yellow mixture. "You need your fibers, son," he said. "They might as well taste good."

The Potter household was jolly once again.

ooooooooooooooooooo

The lost one, the Potter referred to as the boy-who-saved-us-all, was eating his way through an angel food cake, covered with fresh whipped cream and recently picked raspberries.

It was his birthday. No one openly celebrated his birthday, but he'd always get a cake for breakfast. Harry believed it amused his guardians to strike his fancy. Harry was a glutton for angel food cake.

He took a last bite before instructing a house-elf to cover the cake and leave it in his rooms. He'd finish it later in the evening. He'd learned not to overeat at the age of seven after a particularly disastrous encounter with double-chocolate covered éclairs that had been prepared for his guardians' guests. Not only had he given himself indigestion, he'd gotten a major spanking.

No, Harry would certainly not overeat. He would indulge himself and stop there. Harry wiped his mouth with the gold-threaded napkin. He stood up and threw the napkin on the table. He ate alone in his rooms. Family dinners were for weak-hearted fools.

Harry thanked the house-elf and dismissed it. He was always polite to inferior creatures. It separated him from them.

He walked to his closet and went through it, looking for a particular set of dark green robes he liked. He pulled on a pair of dragon scale boots and stuck his hands into the matching fingerless-gloves—protection without lessening dexterity. Harry picked up his wand and headed to the dueling arena.

He was meeting Severus there.

Severus watched as his young charge entered the dueling arena. Harry approached soundlessly and moved in the shadows of the room. The boy could have been invisible had Severus not been waiting for him. He stood in front of Snape and remained impassive as Severus scrutinized his features.

Severus took in the boy's pale face, his high cheekbones and the sleek wavy hair. Harry's glamoured face was kept in place by a charm pendant he wore around his neck. The pendant hadn't been taken off for years. The boy's emerald eyes and scar were left unchanged. Neither, despite the strong complex charm applied, could be successfully covered for more than a minute or two. The magic simply got absorbed. Severus found the whole thing extremely vexing.

Severus couldn't help but be a bit proud of his young charge. Despite his Potterness, the boy had been raised like a Snape and in a sense, like a Lestrange. Harry called the Dark Lord, Grandfather, much to the amusement of the Dark Lord and the rest of the household.

Bellatrix was away on a mission. For the last three years, she had been in charge of recruiting new Death Eaters and rounding up the old ones. The Dark Lord, still weak from his transformation, would not be able to make his comeback for another year or so. Their search for him had only ended five years ago.

It had been Harry, using the reptilian network, who had gotten word of where the Dark Lord's was hiding. Snakes on the way had hissed him the directions of a forest where silence reigned and a dark shadow sucked life out of the animals.

It had been difficult to get the Dark Lord back to Britain, but they did it, painstakingly. But the Dark Lord, without his primary wand, was limited in the magic he could do. So for the moment, their side was slowly building up their forces, acquiring information and infiltrating the different strata of the wizarding world.

Severus, himself, was mostly in charge of Harry's education as well as preparing the potions that sustained the Dark Lord.

However, today wasn't the day for Severus to reminisce on the past. He quickly dismissed his thoughts on the past and focused on his young charge. They wouldn't be duelling today or learning new brewing methods until later in the afternoon. There were more pressing things in the meantime.

"The Dark Lord has summoned you," Severus simply said. "He is waiting for you."

The only sign Harry gave that he'd acknowledged the information was a curt nod.

Severus turned around and signaled Harry to follow him. He paused in front of the Dark Lord's private quarters and knocked twice.

"Enter," the rasp voice said.

And they went in.

The Dark Lord was seated in chair that was, if not throne-like, imposing enough. He had a fist folded under his chin and his brilliant red eyes stared at the two people standing before him.

"Bellatrix has discovered the location of my wand," the Dark Lord said. "Harry, I need you to attend a ball that will be held in Hogwarts in two weeks time."

* * *

A/N: I wrote this story ages ago but never put it up. Credit for the idea goes to Kurinoone. Her story 'Darkness Within' is well-written, complex and long enough to satisfy even the pickiest of us even if it's WIP. Go read it. 


	2. The Soiree

_The Dark Lord was seated in chair that was, if not throne-like, imposing enough. He had a fist folded under his chin and his brilliant red eyes stared at the two people standing before him._

"_Bellatrix has discovered the location of my wand," the Dark Lord said. "Harry, I need you to attend a ball that will be held in Hogwarts in two weeks time."_

oooooooooooooooooooo

Harry Gaunt

Chapter Two – The Soiree

Two weeks later – Riddle Manor

"You look decidedly to much like a guy," said Draco skeptically. He was sitting in Harry's rooms, his arms crossed. "How do we explain the shoulders and your non-existent hips?"

"This is a mission, Draco, not a beauty contest," Harry replied while wiggling into a peacock blue female dress robe. "I'll only be there for a second and I'll slip off. Don't fret."

"This positively sucks," spat Draco nastily. "People are going to think I have bad taste in girls."

Harry glared at Draco through an opening of the dress robe. "That's irrelevant. Our mission is to retrieve Grandfather's wand, not to pet and soothe your overlarge ego," Harry said harshly.

"At least admit that you make an ugly girl," Draco smirked. "Why can't you charm yourself into looking like a real girl?"

"I've told you already, you dunce," Harry said impatiently. He was now curling his hair with a charm and was failing abysmally as the ends burned. "Glamour charms won't work on me because I already have a permanent set of them on."

Draco, extremely vexed, stayed silent despite his intense desire to kill someone and throw a tantrum. He was not looking forward to the other Hogwarts students seeing his choice of a "date." But, Draco stayed silent. One could not, after all, order around imperiously the Dark Lord's heir.

Harry slipped his feet into robust black flats that were going to serve the double duty of dancing shoes and sneak-suit apparel.

"Ok, let's go," said Harry. Draco got up and handed the other end of a well-worn scarf to Harry.

"No one will think I'm gay or anything for going with this butch girl, right?" Draco asked, his fear for a smeared reputation surpassing his fear of the Dark Lord. "Maybe I should say Mother forced me to go—"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said. "Activate."

oooooooooooooooooooo

Voldemort hissed in anticipation at Nagini. He would finally get his precious wand back from Dumbledore. If only the wand had been kept in the Ministry. Voldemort could have had it back in his possession much earlier.

Unfortunately, the wand was being kept at Hogwarts. On the bright side, it served the dual purpose of giving Harry practice in breaking onto Dumbledore's turf and getting Voldemort's wand back.

"_Harry will do well, don't you think Nagini?_" he hissed at his beloved serpent. She hissed back in agreement.

"_Fifteen years it has been, since I've been exiled_," said Voldemort to his snake. "_But soon, soon I will once more bring death and terror to the wizarding world_."

Voldemort shook in his glee and excitement. "_And this time, the cause of my demise is loyal to me and serving me_," Voldemort whispered. "_Muggles and mudbloods alike will finally get what they deserve_."

Maniacal laugh could be heard all over the manor.

oooooooooooooooooooo

It was an end of summer ball, one that served the purpose of enjoying the last few days of warmth and sunlight before the deceitful air of fall was to make its appearance. It was also a sign that school was about to start.

The Great Hall was simply decorated with flower garlands. The air was sweetened by their fragrance. In this peaceful era with no Dark Lord or Death Eaters, people could thoroughly enjoy an evening of lively dancing and merry drinking, without having to fear that their party would be crushed by a band of skull-faced scarecrows.

The staff was present at the ball. They were there more to have fun than to supervise. After a summer of gamboling, fooling around and never doing any homework, students tended to be less rowdy and restless.

Lily Potter, potion mistress, walked towards the buffet where dishes were appearing. She had been put in charge of renewing preservation and cooling charms on the food, such that when the students and their guests arrived, the cold foods would taste fresh and warm ones would still be steaming.

Lily waved to Minerva McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor, as she cast a cooling charm on the pumpkin juice. McGongall was unable to respond to the gesture as she was currently involved in a brawl with Peeves, the poltergeist.

"PEEVES, will you stop eating the decorations!"

"The flowers taste like strawberries, Minnie!" Peeves exclaimed, a stem sticking out of his mouth. "Have some Minnie!"

He threw a garland at McGonagall who barely managed to step out of the way.

"You're a poltergeist! You cannot taste the foulness in your mouth, much less flowers! Leave before I call the Bloody Baron here!" McGonagall threatened, her wand pointed at him. She was slightly desperate because the students and their guests were slowly starting to trickle in. People might get a bad image of Hogwarts if Peeves was left free to roam.

Peeves laughed his way out of the hall, McGonagall sending colorful jets of spells after him. Lily chuckled to herself at the sight. She waved back at one of her student who had just arrived before returning to her charms. Tonight was going to be a joyful start to the new school year as well as the beginning of the rest of her life with the loss of her first-born, a thing of the past.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harry appeared with his blond friend in tow in the office of Professor Sinistra, head of Slytherin. She was grading papers and responded with a mere wave of the hand to Draco's polite greeting. Harry was slightly disheveled. Portkeys had always discomfited him—maybe it was the thought that a portkey could lead you to anywhere and to anyone. Harry smoothed the front of his borrowed dress and slowly exhaled. He followed Draco out into the corridor where they were to immediately head to the Great Hall. A Slytherin prefect of Draco's acquaintance escorted them. Harry let Draco and the girl—Daphné—chat comfortably as he went over the night's plan in his head.

They arrived into the Great Hall. Harry twitched his nose. There were as many flowers as there would be in a funeral. The timing of their arrival was perfect though. There were just enough people to fade into the crowd without making a grand late entrance. Harry left Draco to his own devices and disappeared into the crowd. He would strike later in the evening after every one was well imbedded with what he was going to add in the pumpkin juice.

"Hullo." A boy had just tapped Harry on the shoulder.

Harry stopped walking but didn't reply to the boy, who seemed to be shorter than Harry. Harry stared over the boy's head as if the boy was nothing of any significance and that Harry was only pausing in his stride out of politeness. Harry was playing the role of a pampered pureblood princess after all.

"I've never seen you before," the boy said before quickly mumbling: "Would you like to dance?"

"Thank you, but no," Harry said, clearly pronouncing each word of his refusal. Harry didn't bother to glance at the boy and continued his way to the buffet table, as if it were never interrupted. Harry was half disgusted that someone would think he really was a girl. He half-grimaced at the thought and quickly waded between groups of laughing friends and a couple that was entangled together in a myriad of limbs. No one paid him any attention.

He approached the buffet table and glanced around. There was no teacher around. The only two students there were too concentrated on getting as many slices of pumpkin pies to notice Harry. They had barely stuffed a sweet in their mouth that they were already reaching for a second one. They weren't bothering to chew. They were having an intense swallowing session. Harry recognized them as Crabbe and Goyle, Draco's school sidekicks.

Harry quickly poured himself a cup of pumpkin juice, passing his sleeve over the bowl and discreetly pouring the potion into the juice. In the next five minutes, the potion was going to spread to all surrounding foods and drinks. It was an airborne product in liquid form. Harry didn't try to understand the concept but was grateful for Severus to have provided him with the receipe. It would make tonight's assignment a lot easier.

Any one who would eat or drink food would lose slowly lose focus. They would think only of dancing and playing. They would be under the compulsion of a pleasure potion, easy to brew and undetectable. They would then breathe it onto companions and the sweet air of the room would be embedded with the potion.

He looked up from the table satisfied that the potion was working. He himself had brewed the counter-potion so he would be immune to the pleasure-inducing effect of the potion. As he roamed around, his eyes fell on a redhead, a staff member by the look of the aging lines on her face. She was dancing with some sort of half-breed and laughing loudly. Harry realized this was his mother and he frowned. He glared at her back before disappearing into the crowd once more.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Lily Potter stood beside the staff table quietly enjoying a glass of Butterbeer. She had just come back from dancing with Flitwick. It had been challenging as he hardly reached her waist. Nevertheless it had been fun.

She looked over at her son Jeremy who was chatting away with Ron Weasley. The Weasleys were part of the currently dissolved Order of the Phoenix. Jeremy had often played with the Weasley children.

Ron was currently pointing a girl out to Jeremy and laughing. "…could have been your dad's female version, I can't believe you asked her to dance!" Lily heard distantly. She looked at the girl in question. Lily stifled a laugh. The girl did resemble James to a certain degree, but when Lily looked closely, the high cheekbones and the thin pale face threw the similarities off.

The girl was plain and easily forgettable, making Lily wonder why Jeremy had asked her to dance. She was certainly going to tease her son tonight. And then the girl looked up, straight at Lily, and scowled. Lily did a double take and choked on her Butterbeer. When she looked back to where the girl had been standing, there was noboby.

But Lily had seen the girl's eyes. They had been a startling emerald green—the same emerald green that Lily stared into when she looked in a mirror. Lily shivered in her chiffon gold dress robe. The girl had eyes like Harry. The vivid eyes with a hint of darkness she could not forget even in her dreams.

She shook her red hair and went in search of a stronger drink.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Harry stood near the window of Dumbledore's office. He was surveying the office with hawkish eyes, trying to figure out where an important and dangerous object would be kept.

He had abandoned Draco early on and slithered away from the soiree after the potion had begun to take effect and the students had started to get rowdier. Draco should be in the arms of that Parkinson girl at the moment. Harry snickered. The girl had a nose like an upturned pasted triangle and the brains of an insect high on aphrodisiac but she wasn't Slytherin for nothing. She had managed to corner Draco everywhere he had gone. Her Draco-tracking skills had been superb. Harry revised his thoughts. She was like a dog in heat.

Harry being neither extremely ugly nor remarkably good-looking when dressed as a girl—despite Draco's opinion—had not been much paid much attention to, except as Draco's "pureblood friend." Harry had easily slipped away with the excuse of "having a headache."

Somehow, Harry had managed to confuse the gargoyle into letting him into Dumbledore's office. And so now, he stood, racking his brains for where the headmaster would likely hide something as lethal as Voldemort's wand.

Harry searched several magically enhanced hidden caches before it clicked in his head that since the Dark Lord had been considered quite dead for the last fifteen years, his wand wouldn't necessarily be thought of as a lethal weapon.

Harry suppressed a triumphant cry when he discovered the thirteen-inch phoenix feather wand in an unsealed cupboard. He just had time to conceal the wand in his peacock dress robe when someone entered the room.

Harry looked up into the curious eyes of Dumbledore.

"Hello my dear. May I ask you what my office has that is so interesting?" asked Dumbledore.

"Oh, I had a headache, sir," Harry said in a high-pitched voice. He was talented enough in Occclumency that Dumbledore would not be able to glimpse into his mind and see the swirl of lies Harry had been prepared to use. Harry wondered how Dumbledore had managed to thwart the effect of the potion before realizing he should have taken into account Dumbledore's superior senses of observation and retaliation.

Harry tried to look affected. "Draco was busy dancing with the girl in pink and told me to find my own way home," Harry said in a whiny voice. "It was extremely callous of him. So I looked for a fireplace on my own."

"I do believe you came in through Professor Sinistra's office," said the Headmaster pleasantly. "Let met escort you there and you'll be able to floo back."

"Oh thank you, Mr. Dumbledore!" cried Harry in his high-pitched voice, putting his hand on his fake bosom. He had the satisfaction of seeing Dumbledore cringe at the sound. "I will be forever grateful to you. You are so much nicer than Draco described you!"

As they walked towards the astronomy tower where professor Sinistra's office could be found, Dumbledore questioned Harry on his life in Durmstrang. Harry had all the answers as he had been prepared to answer questions like this.

Before letting Harry go, Dumbledore asked a final question: "Please, my dear Miss Hortensia, do tell me how you got past the wards and into my office?"

"Oh, I simply asked the gargoyle to please let me in," Harry mumbled quickly. "He was very nice about it."

Dumbledore looked suspicious for a moment but when he looked up again, his eyes were twinkling. "Goodnight to you, Miss Hortensisa. I hope Hogwarts was enjoyable to you."

"Oh, it was, more than you'll ever know," Harry replied in his fake falsetto voice. He smiled sweetly at Dumbledore before he yelled "Malfoy Manor" into the floo.

Dumbledore stood quietly in Professor Sinistra's office for quite a while after "Miss Hortensia" had departed. In the end, he dismissed his suspicions and headed back to the festivities where the students were starting to get things heated up. He would need to do some supervising and chaperoning after all.

oooooooooooooooooooo

Narcissa Malfoy brought tea and biscuits for the Dark Lord's heir. He was sitting stiffly on a couch and biting the inside of his lower lip bloody. He looked distraught, but the lines on his face smoothed into a smile as Narcissa approached with the tray.

Narcissa Malfoy was one of those exquisite products of expansive pureblood breeding. Not only was she tall, blond and beautiful, she held herself aloof, cool and was an admirable hostess. Lucius Malfoy could not have married a woman of better pedigree.

Harry approved of Draco's mother. She knew her place in this cutthroat world. Not like Harry's mudblood of a mother who danced with half-breeds and consorted with muggles. It disgusted Harry in no end that he'd come out of her womb. He was thankful that the Dark Lord had put him back in the right direction.

Harry thought about Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord's right-hand man. After Crouch had resigned his position as Minister of Magic following the conviction of his son as a Death Eater, ten years earlier, Cornelius Fudge, the bumbling politician had taken his place. Fudge was incompetent and greedy for votes. He let several wealthy Death Eaters from prominent pureblood families return from exile and escape Azkaban with the promise of "community service," which usually meant a generous donation for Fudge's next presidential campaign. Malfoy and Nott had been two—but not the only ones—of such escapees. They had been part of the circle that had been contacted after the Dark Lord had been brought back.

Thus, it was in the opulent home of the Malfoys that Voldemort's heir recuperated from his ordeal of dealing with a manipulative Dumbledore.

"Thank you for the refreshments, Narcissa," Harry said to Draco's mother, taking the tray from her. "But I must make haste and return to Grandfather."

Narcissa, quick to understand, smiled and waved her wand. A knapsack containing robes and other necessary accessories appeared on the couch.

"I will return to my quarters then, young Master," she said demurely as she turned to leave. "Please send my regards to the Dark Lord and may his ventures succeed."

"Thank you, I will pass on your words," Harry said approvingly.

She nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Harry stripped off the despicable peacock blue dress robe and threw on the robes Narcissa had left him. He transferred his weapons onto himself before exchanging the black flats for his usual dragon boots. He was relieved he hadn't needed to use any of his weapons in Hogwarts. It would have made escape difficult and would leave evidence of him having been at the school.

Harry stuffed the dress robe in the knapsack and slung it over his shoulder despite his misgivings about dressing as girl again. He might need it again and the dress robe had useful pockets of concealment inside it. He threw floo powder into the roaring fireplace.

"Riddle Manor," Harry said clearly before stepping into the green fire and vanishing.

oooooooooooooooooooo

James Potter was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron with his best friends, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Their other faithful marauder, Peter Pettigrew, had been missing in action several years earlier and presumed dead.

The three marauders were celebrating the birth of Sirius Black's second child, a girl who had been christened Lola Henrietta Black. She had a shiny bald head and a rosy tint to her cheeks. Sirius' wife had brought her to her parent's house on this glorious August day, leaving Sirius to enjoy the evening with his friends. Sirius' elder child was in the same year as Jeremy Potter and currently dancing at the Soiree at Hogwarts.

James raised his firewhiskey and said: "To Lola Henrietta Black, the newest addition to the Black family." He winked at Sirius who grinned. It had been fifteen years since that nightmarish day at the Quidditch World Cup. Sirius had taken James' words at heart and had started to believe that he deserved his own happiness. Sirius then proceeded to help the Potters as well as himself overcome Harry's horrific end. Sirius had married soon after and settled near Godric's Hollow.

Remus raised his own glass and said: "The Marauders honor a new heir." This time, all three of them grinned sheepishly at the memories of the pranks they'd pulled back in Hogwarts.

"Cheers," Sirius said simply and drank his firewhiskey in one long gulp. The other two followed his example. In these times of relative peace, one could properly enjoy a night out with the boys without worrying about coming home and finding it burned down with the Dark Mark set over it. Life was as good as it could get.

But James, deep inside, wished with all his might for Harry. For the wizarding world, Harry Potter was slowly becoming just a name in a textbook, but for James Potter, his son's name still evoked a dull ache in him. His precious lost one…

James poured himself another glass before passing the bottle to Remus. He hoped his Lily and their second son were enjoying themselves at Hogwarts' Soiree.

Sirius clapped James on the shoulder, noticing his melancholic mood and talked about the various aurors who'd gotten themselves drunk at the Ministry's Midsummer Party. James laughed along and Remus listened intently to Sirius' gossip.

oooooooooooooooooooo

"My Lord, I can't help but express my concerns about this plan," said Severus to the Dark Lord. "What if Harry realizes the truth of his background?"

"Are you questioning my reasoning, Severus?" said the Dark Lord. "If you hadn't been loyal to me for all these years, I would've crucio'd you several times already for your impertinence."

Severus winced but continued nonetheless. "My Lord, there are currently two Potters residing in Hogwarts. He will be curious despite his hatred of them."

"Then we will have to placate his curiosity," said the Dark Lord. "I cannot afford to lose him but there is no one better suited for this mission."

"I advise against this venture, my Lord," Severus said tentatively but froze at the look of rage storming in the Dark Lord's red eyes. "But of course, the Dark Lord knows best and I am only a faithful servant." Severus kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.

"And you had better remember it, Severus," the Dark Lord whispered menacingly. "I assure you that I know exactly what I am doing, my loyal servant."

"Of course, my Lord," replied Severus. "Shall I go fetch the young Master then?"

"Yes, send him in," said Voldemort. "And leave us alone."

Severus nodded. He got up and walked to the door, where Harry was waiting, a chocolate croissant half in his mouth and half hanging out. He motioned at Harry to go inside. Harry nodded back to Severus and entered Voldemort's private quarters, the croissant still in his mouth.

"I certainly didn't teach you such atrocious eating habits," Voldemort said, as he waved at Harry to sit down opposite him. "It was Bella, wasn't it?"

"No, it was Crabbe and Goyle, the junior ones," Harry laughed. He plopped down on a lavishly decorated armchair and helped himself to a handful biscuits.

"Please crucio them for me, next time," Voldemort said, frowning.

Harry nodded as he swallowed.

"I was very pleased with your latest mission," said Voldemort, abruptly changing the subject. He twirled his recently re-acquired wand. "I have regained much of my strength."

"Thank you, Granddad," Harry grinned cheekily, his teeth covered with chocolate. "I'd like to see Dumbledore's face when he realizes your wand's disappeared."

Voldemort was silent. He sipped his tea and smiled almost affectionately at his heir.

"You might have the chance to do so," Voldemort finally said.

Harry stopped nibbling on his biscuit. He swallowed forcefully. "What do you mean, Granddad?"

"I need to know what the Order is up to, before and while I make my comeback," Voldemort explained to Harry. "I need a spy in Hogwarts."

Harry's kept his face devoid of signs this time. He waited expectantly for his lord to continue.

"You are trustworthy, competent and an accomplished liar," Voldemort said to Harry. "I want you inside Hogwarts. You will gather intelligence from within."

Harry inwardly beamed at the praise but at the same time, he shuddered at the work it would take to pull off the task. Harry thought quickly. He'd have to hide some of his features, find a safe way to communicate with the Dark Lord, keep his abilities in check and then, make sure Draco didn't give it all away with his big fat mouth.

Then, Harry would have to discover who the Order members were and where the meetings occurred—but they certainly weren't going to regroup until the Dark Lord made his comeback.

"I will enroll you as a sixth year in September," added Voldemort. "You'll be saying you are transferring from Durmstrang due to family issues."

"Yes, Granddad," said Harry solemnly. "I will not disappoint you."

"If I am in need of your assistance, I will contact you," Voldemort said as he deposited his empty teacup on the tray.

Voldemort slowly lifted himself from the luxurious couch of his private rooms. Harry shoved the rest of the biscuit into his mouth, sensing that they would be busy planning for the next couple of hours.

"Come, young one," Voldemort beckoned. "We will prepare for this long undercover project of ours in my study. I shall summon Lucius and Severus."

Harry grabbed a handful of biscuits and stuffed them in his pocket and ran after the Dark Lord. Too much thinking made him ravenous.

"You will be Harry Gaunt, descendant of Slytherins," Harry heard the Dark Lord say. "And Lord Voldemort will rise once again."

oooooooooooooooooooo

A/N: Harry will not turn out to be a nice boy. He will not join the lightside. And he will not be paired with either a girl or a guy. Well those are my thoughts right this moment anyway lol.

PS. Join the PPP club: pampered pureblood princess. Get house-elves to file your nails, curl your hair and eat pumpkin seeds as you read out-loud the new edition of the Weekly Witch to your pureblood girl friends.


	3. Potions with a Potter

"_You will be Harry Gaunt, descendant of Slytherins," Harry heard the Dark Lord say. "And Lord Voldemort will rise once again."_

oooooooooooooooooooo

Harry Gaunt

Chapter Three – Potions with a Potter

Harry sat alone in a compartment, waiting for the train to leave platform 9 ¾. He had with him a lightened trunk and an owl that would serve of intermediary between him and the Dark Lord. Harry pulled his sleeve up and scratched at a patch of skin. A small dagger suddenly formed out of his skin. He held it up, the blade catching the rays of light coming in through the window. Harry smiled in satisfaction.

Harry's cache of weapons was hidden, not in his trunk, but on his own person. He preferred to keep his tools close to him and trunks were too easily broken into no matter what deadly protective spells were put on them. In a spurt of creativity, Harry had moulded various knives and potion phials into skin and plastered them all over his body. His tools thus served the double duty of protection shield and hiding spot.

"Not a bad idea at all," Harry thought to himself, as he indulged in a moment of self-appreciation. He felt his bench shake; the train was leaving the station. Almost seconds later, the door to his compartment was slammed open by a polished, well-manicured hand. Harry half-sneered at the slender fingers and knew that the person intruding into his compartment was none other than the self-professed prince of Slytherin, Draco Malfoy. Harry did not bother to look up.

"There you are! I've been looking for you all over!" Draco said, a cross look distorting the lines of his pointy face. "Why would you sit in the last compartment? You do realize I had to go through every single compartment!"

Harry ignored Draco and continued to admire the well-sharpened edge of his dagger.

"Well, there is this saying that the thing you're looking for will always be at the last place you look," Draco said as he passed his hand over his gel-laddered blond hair.

"That's because once you find this "thing", you stop looking," Harry said, contempt obvious in his voice.

Draco was torn between looking sheepish and annoyed. The latter won as Draco's habitually upturned nose and arrogant sneer settled on his face. "Well, Potter, if you want me to show you the ropes around Hogwarts, you better be more respectful to me."

Harry smiled lazily and flipped his wrist, releasing the small dagger. The blade imbedded itself with a loud twang half-an-inch away from Draco's head.

"Watch you mouth, Draco, or I might accidentally miss next time," Harry said. "You don't want to scar that flawless complexion of yours, do you?"

To Draco's credit, he neither screamed nor got angry. He simply went back to fussing with his hair. "What's one more threat to my person when you've handed them to me on a daily basis, Harry?"

Harry got up and retrieved the dagger, which he quickly concealed back into his sleeve. "Since you're so familiar with my threats, here's a promise instead," Harry said in a low voice. "If a word about my background gets out, I will personally make sure that you will never want to look in a mirror again. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, young master," Draco said, his voice serious for once.

Harry nodded and pulled a book out his trunk. He ignored Draco for the rest of the trip and concentrated on his lecture of "The Road To Hell is Paved with Good Intentions: The Untold Story of Albus Dumbledore".

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Harry stood in the middle of the Ravenclaw common room. He chewed his bottom lip unintentionally. After he had been sorted with the first years, he had followed the rest of his house to the tower. He now appeared to be admiring the delicate artwork on the fireplace, the elaborate mosaics of the ceiling and the floor patterns. The truth was, Harry was analysing possible exists, hidden passages and the mechanics of the windows and doors. He wanted to be prepared in the unlikely situation he was discovered as a spy and follower of the Dark Lord.

He didn't think he'd ever be found out as the Harry Potter, spawn of James and Lily Potter. People had forgotten his name long before Harry had even begun to understand the feat he had accomplished as a baby. That was one less annoyance to worry about.

Harry turned around and mentally prepared himself to face the most difficult task of all: integrating himself into the student body. He wanted to be well-liked but still inconspicuous. It was the perfect combination to gather information from the students that lived in bliss ignorance of the coming war. If he became too popular or too infamous, he would attract too much attention and his cover was likelier to be blown. On the other hand, if he remained too much of an unknown identity, people wouldn't open their mouth or share things with him.

A sixth-year Ravenclaw student smiled at Harry and approached him. Harry gave him a sheepish smile and introduced himself. Soon enough, Harry was chatting with several Ravenclaws. He spoke intelligently but remained slightly aloof. That was the best way to deal with the clever but slightly bookwormish students that populated Ravenclaw Tower.

Harry sighed, knowing he'd have to put up with this mockery of a social façade for quite a while. He decided he might as well slowly take his time to build up the persona he wanted to project to his fellow students. He didn't have to rush things. He didn't really need to gather intelligence until after the Order caught whiffs of the return of Voldemort. For now, Harry was safe and could afford to do as he pleased. And for the coming future, nothing would please him more than to torment the woman who had expulsed him from her womb.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Nowhere was Lily safe from those green orbs that had been haunting her ever since the Hogwarts' Soirée. Especially not since the student body had returned and Lily would continually catch glimpses of the startling green eyes in the faces of her students. She would look up from breakfast and fall right into those absurdly green eyes so similar to hers. She'd take a second look only to see a mass of chattering students. She would be walking to class and catch a glimpse of flashing eyes and tufts of messy black hair before they turned a corner and Lily lost sight of them. She didn't think it would be so bad if she did not wake up in the middle of the night, sweating from nightmares of that day they had found Harry's mutilated body, his green eyes dull and lifeless.

Lily had quickly made the connection between the emerald eyes and her lost first-born. What she couldn't understand was why she kept thinking of Harry when she had, during the summer, finally accepted his death. Lily wondered if the franticness of the beginning of the school year was causing her to hallucinate. She stopped walking in the middle of the hallway and shut her eyes, refusing to see more bizarre reminiscence of the past. Lily shook her head in an attempt to get rid of the images.

"Professor?"

Lily's eyes popped open.

"Are you feeling alright?" a sixth-year Gryffindor asked her.

Lily smiled at her student, "Yes, I'm fine, thank you. You better head to class or you'll be late."

"I'm heading to um, potions, Professor," the student said awkwardly.

"Oh my! I'm quite lost today aren't I," Lily smiled sheepishly. "Well, can't start without me, right?"

As she walked towards the classroom, Lily couldn't shake away the feeling that she was being watched. Biting her lip, she emerged into the classroom and resolved to stop worrying about hallucinations and bizarre feelings. She had a class to teach, after all—or so she thought until her gaze fell on the familiar green eyes. They belonged to a sixth-year with messy black hair sitting in the back of the room. He was the transfer student from Durmstrang who had been sorted into Ravenclaw. The boy was looking down his nose at her and his pale high cheeks set his eyes off even more.

There was just something uncanny about the young man. It was in those eyes that were so like hers, in his calm facial expression and his aloof posture. He had an imposing air around him, as if he was used to being the one in charge, the one giving orders. Thoughts hammered inside her head but Lily forced herself to begin to read the list of names.

Lily almost choked when she read out loud "Harry Gaunt". Harry was not an uncommon name, but to see it attached to an individual that exuded both a sense of strangeness and familiarity to her innerved her enough that she dropped the scroll.

She picked it up with shaking hands and continued the name call. She was aware that the class was wondering why their usual confident and cheerful professor from the previous years was acting so strangely. Lily bit her inner lip and forced herself to smile and wave her wand so that instructions appeared onto the blackboard.

As it was the first potion class, Lily had them brew a complex potion with a prize for the best brew, not unlike what Slughorn used to do when she was a student. She remembered how she would best Snape one year and he would in turn best her the next. Half-lost in her memories and half-worried about her sanity, Lily did not hear the polite cough of a student standing at her elbow.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my head was still full of summer vacations," she began to joke, her smile fading when Harry Gaunt's face remained unsmiling. "Have you finished your potion?"

"Not at all," Harry said. "I was just wondering if—"

The rest of his sentence was buried under the large explosion that occurred at the cauldron of a certain Gryffindor redhead. It was followed by the shrill voice of a bushy-haired girl in her attempt to sermon the redhead's carelessness.

"Mister Weasley, please step aside from the cauldron," Lily quickly said before motioning for Hermione Granger to calm down. "You've just found out about the explosive properties of mixing counter-clockwise instead of clockwise. I believe you will not be so careless as to ignore those instructions next time?"

Ronald Weasley gulped and said, "Yes, Lily—I mean Professor Potter!"

Lily smiled, suddenly thankful that the sixth-year student had distracted her from painful memories. "Clean this up quick and you still might have time to complete a second batch."

"It has to be a record to have blown up a cauldron in the first ten minutes of the first day of class?" Ron said sheepishly to Hermione who was scowling dreadfully.

Lily and several other students of the class laughed before going back to their own potion making.

Lily walked back to the front of the class to see that the uncanny young man, Harry, had returned to his bench and was chopping roots. She was about to approach him again until he shot her a bland look. The corners of his lips suddenly turned up and he gave her a slow lazy seductive smile.

Lily abruptly broke eye contact and started to pace around the classroom to look over the progress of her N.E.W.T. students. She did not want to think what the smile implied or who exactly the young man could be.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Harry's lips formed into a smirk when Professor Potter went to attend to other students. He wanted her confused. He wanted her afraid of him. Harry was disappointed in his mother. She was simply not a worthy adversary, already looking down after less than a few seconds. Harry knew he would have to stop his schemes soon and revert into the innocent Ravenclaw he was supposed to portray. But he would enjoy himself for a few more days before shutting off the whole malevolent behaviour that seemed to take him over whenever he approached his so-called biological family. He was positive they would never find out his true identity; his cover was flawless. Harry could, however, amuse himself at their expanse, by dredging up those painful memories of the dead Harry Potter.

Harry had his own vendetta to fulfill. He would follow the Dark Lord's agenda but only to a certain point and then he would make his move and have them all in the palm of his hand. Harry's grip tightened around the silver knife.

ooooooooooooooooooo

It was true that Harry did not like mudbloods or muggles. He knew perfectly well that he was himself a half-blood and despised that connection to the dirty blood, but Harry was also aware that some things were more important than bloodlines. Harry believed in power and that knowledge was the road to power.

Harry also believed in the application of knowledge. In that, he was slightly different from his fellow Ravenclaws. They pursued knowledge for the sake of learning. He, in contrast, wanted to make use of his knowledge. Harry yearned to win, to be the last one standing. Some might have said that Slytherin would have suited him better but Harry was well aware that being in Ravenclaw was much more advantageous. While Slytherins would hoard information, Ravenclaws would openly share it. Harry had done well in talking the hat into sorting him into Ravenclaw.

His cauldron clunking loudly as he walked, Harry smiled at his fellow Ravenclaws. He was much more interested in hearing their stories than telling them anything. Of course, he would eventually have to say things to sway them into doing what he wanted, but in the meanwhile, he could simply observe, listen and learn.

"Remember that Hogwart's Soirée we had earlier?" Mandy Brocklehurst mentioned when the conversation had stalled to a pause.

"Yeah, you had that awful green frock with the purple ruffles on," Terry Boot laughed. "It looked like an exotic bird had escaped from a zoo."

"I resent that comment, Terry," Mandy frowned. "But I'll let it slide if you tell me what a zoo is."

"You mean you don't know?" Terry exclaimed, his eyes widening. "A zoo's this place where animals are kept and—"

"Spare us the monologue on muggles' lame attempt to tame nature, Boot," Anthony Goldstein interrupted. "I'm sure Mandy didn't bring up the Soirée to talk about dresses and birds."

"Right you are," Mandy quickly said, regaining her chain of thoughts. "As I was saying, I heard from my mother that there had been a certain commotion the night of the Soirée."

"We were there the whole time," Terry frowned. "I doubt something could have happened right under the nose of so many people without people realizing."

Harry snickered at that but simply shrugged his shoulders when the others looked at him.

"Anyway, it was shrouded with mystery," Mandy said in a whisper, "but my mother—she works at the ministry, you know—told me that something was stolen from Dumbledore's office."

"What was stolen?" Terry asked, curiosity making his eyes bulge a little.

"Yeah what?" seconded Anthony.

"Well, my mother didn't say," Mandy faltered a little before recovering the excitement in her voice, "but it must have been mighty important for Dumbledore to have to report to the ministry about it!"

"Wonder what was stolen?" Terry said. "Must have been a really dangerous book!"

"Typical of Ravenclaws to think of books first," thought Harry as he slowly tuned out his fellow housemates. He now knew that both Dumbledore and the ministry were aware of the theft. He had hoped that it would have gone unnoticed for longer. He would have to report this to the Dark Lord.

On their way to Ravenclaw Tower, the group passed in front of a quiet badly-lighted floor.

"That leads to the third floor, Harry," said Terry as he pointed to the dark hallway. "That's the floor Professor Dumbledore said to avoid. He's been saying it for years now."

"Why is that?" said Harry, his curiosity aroused. Anything Dumbledore didn't want students to see should be potentially profitable to the Dark Lord.

"A painful death is what is keeping us from opening that door," inserted Mandy. "There've been rumours of a three-headed dog behind that door."

"I overheard a bunch of Gryffindors talking about it not long ago but I couldn't make out their exact words," said Terry, curling his hand around his chin in thought, "something about a stone and Fluffy."

"Dumbledore is likely to be guarding something on the floor," Anthony said dimissively. "It's none of our business and I'm not about to risk my life to find out about it."

"Me either," said Mandy, shuddering. "Considering it's been there for over three years and no one has yet to try what's behind the door, I'd say whatever security measures Dumbledore put up must be working."

"It's not like they're going to give us bonus points in our grades if we find out what's on the third floor," Terry snorted. "Better spend the time researching this year's new potion terminology."

"Right you are, Terry," Harry said. "I think I'm going to the library first."

Harry said goodbye to his housemates before turning on his heels, heading towards the owlery.

"The Dark Lord probably knows this bit of info already," Harry murmured to himself, thinking of whatever was on the third floor, "but I'd better report it anyway. The bald bastard would probably see it as treachery if I didn't."

ooooooooooooooooooo

Lily was soaked to the elbow, her forearms wallowing in warm soapy purplish water. She was hand-washing her cauldron. She knew she could use magic to do it. It would be faster and much more efficient, but when she needed to think, Lily liked to keep her hands busy working.

Lily mostly wondered why she had reacted to the young transfer student in such an odd way. Just thinking of him, made her uncomfortable. She wanted to know how he was feeling, his background, his likes and dislikes. She found him endlessly interesting and looked down when he looked at her because she was afraid she would end up staring.

It was a strange motherly feeling and Lily couldn't help but think of her Harry whenever the image of Harry Gaunt showed up in her mind. This confused her terribly because she could not understand how she could associate a one-year-old baby who had barely time to develop a personality to a strange sixteen-year-old whose expression alternated between condescension and indifference.

Lily roughly threw the sponge into the cauldron, uncaring of the water that splashed onto the front of her shirt.

At that exact moment, she heard a sharp knock on her door. Despite her soaked robe, Lily went ahead and opened the door, only to stare at the one and only Harry Gaunt.

"Hello, Professor," the sixth-year said in a demure voice. "I was wondering if you had a couple of minute?"

"Oh, yes, I mean, come on in," Lily stammered. She followed his eyes to her wet appearance. "Don't mind the water, I was washing some stuff."

"You were hand-washing."

It wasn't a question as much as a statement but Lily went on answering the comment anyway.

"That's right. Using 'scourgify' has spoiled me," she tried to laugh it off.

"You don't have to explain to me your muggleness, Professor," Harry said as he walked into the empty potions classroom.

Lily frowned a bit at the comment but let it go. She motioned to the student to sit, which he declined, stating he preferred to stand after a long day of sitting down for classes.

They exchanged the necessary pleasantries and Lily was surprised to hear the young man speak almost normally. There were no signs of strangeness or familiarity. He was just another potion student, who had come with questions about the assignment, with no link whatsoever to her Harry Potter.

Before long, Lily found herself talking about her personal life to the young man. She told him a little about Jeremy who was at Hogwarts and some books she had liked. The boy knew his literature well and had even read some of the authors she considered mostly obscure.

"There's something I'd like to ask you," he said, enunciating each word carefully. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"Ask away, Mr. Potter, and I'll see," Lily smiled.

"I wanted to ask you about your deceased son," the sixth-year said slowly, "the one that they call Harry Potter. Can you tell me about him?"

ooooooooooooooooooo

There was a long pregnant pause. Harry watched Lily tense up, her hand clutching her wet robe.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that," Harry said apologetically. "It's obviously a difficult subject for you, Professor Potter."

"No, no, it's not that," Lily quickly said, her voice coming back to her. "I was just surprised. It's just no one's mentioned my Harry in a long time. He's just become one of the many names in history books."

She choked a little at the end of her own sentence.

"Yes, unfortunately Harry Potter has long stopped to be a household name," Harry commented.

"Yes well, I prefer it that way," Lily said, attempting to regain her composure.

"It must have caused you a lot of grief to lose him in such a way," Harry said, the corner of his lip twitching. He liked seeing her struggle to keep her cool while talking about a subject that was still obviously very sore to her, even fifteen years later.

"He was a sweet baby and I will never forget the year I did have with him," Lily said automatically. It was her answer to all the "I'm sorry about your loss" she had gotten over the years. "We were not the only people to lose family to the war. I can only be thankful that my son's death was not in vain and allowed the beginning a peaceful era."

"Indeed." Harry said but inwardly, he was thinking of the irony that while Harry Potter had stopped a war, Harry Gaunt was fostering another.

"And yet it must have been doubly hard to mourn your child and celebrate the death of the Dark Lord simultaneously," Harry added, wanting to dig deeper into the wound. "Technically, it could be said that wizards were celebrating the death of Harry Potter."

"I—"

Seeing that his mother had been shaken, Harry let one corner of his lip turn up.

"Thank you for your time, Professor," Harry said quickly. "I'd better head back to Ravenclaw Tower now."

"Yes."

"I'll see you in class, then, Professor," Harry smiled politely. "And thanks again for the explanations for the assignment."

"OK."

She had been reduced to monosyllabic answers. Harry wanted to laugh out loud. He hadn't realized that the name of Harry Potter would still affect Lily Potter so much. He entertained the idea of revealing his true identity just to see her reaction.

Closing the door carefully behind him, Harry smiled in satisfaction. He hoped Lily Potter would have difficulty sleeping.

Harry was careful to muffle the sound of his steps as he made his way back to Ravenclaw Tower. It was long before curfew but Harry wanted to avoid being noticed. He wanted to gloat alone over his complete victory of his mother's feelings. He had succeeded in hurting her.

As he turned the corner, Harry saw a group of fellow Ravenclaw students approaching. They were likely to be heading towards the library. He would certainly run into them, muffled steps or not. He knew he had told them he would be in the library but he wanted to stew on his thoughts alone.

Harry doubled-backed on his steps and turned into a dark corridor. He felt a doorknob and quickly whispered an unlocking charm. He quickly stepped into the room and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He waited for the students to pass.

Harry heard a growling noise behind him and his eyes widened when the eight-feet-tall three-headed dog reared its ugly faces at him.

"So this is the third floor's forbidden room," Harry murmured, his eyes wide. "I didn't realize."

His wand grasped in his right hand, Harry shot a few experimental shots at the angry dog, quickly deducing that his thick hide protected him from most forms of magic.

"Let's see if you're as resistant to a physical attack," Harry said as he pulled his sleeves back and allowed his moulded daggers to take form.

With practiced ease, Harry enlarged the dagger and banished it towards the beast. The dagger pierced the neck of one of the heads, making the beast howl in pain.

Harry ran around the beast as it attempted to take out the lodged dagger. If he forced the beast to turn around, it would give him a good shot angle at the neck of the head on the right.

His plan worked and Harry banished a second enlarged dagger at the beast, taking out the right head.

There was only the middle head left and it's neck was protected by the two downed heads beside it. There was no opening and Harry frowned until a thought occurred to him.

The beast, angered and in pain, ran towards Harry, barking and growling loudly. As soon as it opened its mouths to chomp Harry in two, Harry let fly a third dagger and watched in satisfaction as the weapon embedded itself deep in the back of the dog's throat.

The three-headed dog fell down in a loud crash, sending dust flying up into the air.

Harry covered his mouth and looked for the exit. He became annoyed when he realized the dead body of the dog was blocking the door from which he had come in. He was looking for signs of windows or doors when he tripped on the latch of a trap.

Harry tugged it open and saw a myriad of plants with moving tentacles. Harry stood up and took out his wand.

"Accio daggers!" yelled Harry before cleaning them with a 'scourgify' and allowing the daggers to mould back into the skin of his forearms. "Better get rid of the plants now. They look suspiciously like Devil's Snare."

Harry sent a blue flame down into the trap and watched as the plants writhed away from the light. He jumped down and landed on a tiled floor. Tiny little things were flying around. Ignoring them, Harry tried the door at the other side of the room.

He became slightly frustrated when no amount of unlocking charms had any effect. That's when he realized that the little things weren't so much flying bugs as flying keys.

Harry stood very still in the middle of the room. The charm seemed to have begun to wear off after all the years they'd been on the keys. The keys were flying at relatively slow pace. Harry waited for the key he wanted to fly into the periphery of his vision and when it did, he quickly reached out and grabbed it.

Harry stuck the key into the doorknob and pushed the door open. Looking back into the room, he was grateful that the charm had worn off, or he might have had to make use of the brooms that were in a corner of the room. The brooms looked awfully fragile and Harry didn't want to think what would have happened had he actually gotten onto one of them and flew all the way to the top of the room.

Shaking his head, Harry closed the door behind him and entered into a large room with many chess pieces.

It dawned onto him that the rooms were made up of challenges to hinder one's passage.

"So now I am to play chess, I see," Harry muttered. "I'll take black. Let them make their first move. I'll be waiting for them."

He walked around the board and looked at the pieces. At this point, his curiosity was aroused and he didn't want to go back up and move the dog's body in order to get out. At this point, Harry wanted to find out the reason behind all these challenges and in order to do that, he needed to get through them.

"The Dark Lord is King. Queen would be Bella, I suppose. Snape can be the bishop." Harry said under his breath. "I'll be a tower. I'll corner the white king at the end and take it out."

Harry won.

"Good thing that playing with the Dark Lord requires a lot more talent than just knowing how to win," Harry said as he jumped off from the tower and went on a slight rant. "Not only do I have to let him win but I also have to provide him with a suitable challenge. I've got to stop calling him Granddad and start calling him the bald bastard. He'd eat me alive, after injuring me severely, of course."

Harry arrived into a room containing a rotting troll, lying on the ground.

"Someone forgot to feed him," Harry chuckled at the sight. Dismissing the troll from his mind, Harry continued ahead and found himself in a room delimited by fire curtains.

Looking around, he saw the clues and the dusty bottles of potion. Harry looked at the fire curtain.

"I could throw myself through it and then heal myself," Harry murmured to himself, "but that would take too much energy and time. I still have to get back to Ravenclaw Tower eventually."

Sighing, Harry walked to the clues and placed the potions accordingly. It wasn't long before he had figured out the order and drank the potion that would allow him to advance.

Walking around the newly revealed room, Harry was surprised to see a large mirror with extensive ornaments around it.

"A mirror?" Harry frowned. "That can't be all it is."

As he stood in front of it, Harry was mesmerized by the image it returned.

"Does this show the future? No impossible—" he mumbled to himself as he stretched out his fingers to touch the glassy surface of the mirror. "It's everything I want…"

As he forced himself to look away, Harry's gaze fell on the inscriptions above the mirror.

"The Mirror of Erised," he read, stepping back. "So this is where it's been."

Harry bit his lip and forced himself to think.

"What I really want, right now, is to know the reason behind all these stupid challenges," Harry said and knew with a conviction that it was his true desire for the moment being.

It wasn't long before a heavy object dropped into his pocket. Quickly taking it out, Harry gasped, recognizing it instantly for what it was.

"Flamel's philosopher's stone," said Harry as he caressed the stone in amazement. "What the hell was Dumbledore doing, hiding it in a school of all places!"

Shifting the stone from one hand to the other, Harry thought hard about what he was going to do next. He walked around the room several times before he made his decision.

"I'm not giving you to either the Headmaster or to the Dark Lord," Harry said, his features hard and determined. "I'm keeping the stone for myself."

Harry returned in front of the mirror and conjured a fake red stone, leaving it on the floor.

"Let them think whatever they want, but they won't be finding the real stone anytime soon."

Harry ran back, thinking he could climb over the three-headed dog in order to get out. A gleeful look on his face, Harry ran through the rooms.

"We'll see who's more powerful now, dear Granddad."

ooooooooooooooooooo

TBC


End file.
